


The Bet bet

by irls_goaway



Series: Defenders of the 99th Precinct [3]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Attempt at Humor, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Klance Rivalry, M/M, adashi, b99 au, broganes, i still dont know how to tag things, no editing we die like men, shiro is a Dad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:22:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24202015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irls_goaway/pseuds/irls_goaway
Summary: The gang have been taking bets on Lance and Keith's bet.
Relationships: Adam/Shiro (Voltron), Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Series: Defenders of the 99th Precinct [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1120761
Comments: 9
Kudos: 67





	The Bet bet

**Author's Note:**

> My track record of never editing or proofreading continues because I can't stand reading my own writing. Also I wrote this at 2 AM while watching Netflix on call with my friend, so read at your own risk ig.

“Very, very interesting. Guys, Captain Altea has no pants on.” Lance proudly declared.

“What?” Keith inquired.

“She has no pants on is what. Here are the facts: At 11:55 AM, Captain Altea walked past us holding a hot bowl of soup. At 12:03 PM, I heard her yell. Then, at 12:07, she called Coran into her office. He entered holding nothing. One minute later he left holding an opaque bag. Captain Altea’s pants were in that bag. Her knees are in the breeze. She’s in her undies.”

“Lance, get back to work.” Shiro said, trying his best to sound annoyed.

“What? No applause?”

Hunk clapped enthusiastically. Hunk would clap at anything Lance said.

“Thank you Hunk. Looks like you’re the only one who appreciates my amazing detective abilities around here.” Lance feigned heartbreak and shook his head.

“I might appreciate them a lot more if you used them to solve the hotel robbery case I assigned you this morning.” Shiro responded, beginning to do paperwork again.

“Hey, if you’re going to be disappointed in anyone, it should be Keith. He hasn’t solved a case all month!” Lance pointed at Keith. Keith took a break from sharpening his desk corners to roll his eyes.

“It’s the second day of the month, Lance.” Keith said sourly.

Lance shrugged lightheartedly, “But, I’m not wrong.”

“Lance, you’re wrong about this, just like you’re wrong about Captain Altea’s pants.” Keith retorted.

It was then that Coran entered the bullpen. “Does anyone know how to get tomato soup stains out of satin?”

“VINDICATION!” Lance exclaimed. He ran over to hug Coran and kissed him on both cheeks.

Coran was visibly confused, but didn’t resist.

“Okay, so maybe you were right about one stupid little theory, but I’m still a way better detective than you are.” Keith huffed, “Tell him, Shiro.”

Shiro never took sides with Lance and Keith, so all he could say was, “You’re both excellent detectives. Most of the time.”

Pidge groaned at that, “No need to be such a dad all the time, Sarge.” She had to tiptoe to pat him on the shoulder. “I say we make this interesting.”

And thus, The Bet was born. Lance bet Keith that he could get more felony arrests in exactly one year. If Lance lost, Keith would get his car, and if Keith lost, he would have to go on a terrible date with Lance. Lance assured Keith it would be a night he wanted to forget but would always remember.

Two months following The Bet, the rest of the precinct also had a little bet of their own. Somehow, Coran even managed to get the Captain involved. Hunk and Pidge bet that Lance would win. Shiro refused to pick a side at first, but eventually announced he was betting on Keith, along with the Captain and Coran.

Lance was 8 arrests behind Keith, so they were both running around like crazy people trying to arrest felons.

“Shiro, you lying coward! Shame!” Pidge said, dramatically pointing an accusatory finger towards the Sergeant.

“What are you talking about?”

“Don’t act all innocent with me. I know what you’ve been doing. How dare you. I thought you were better than this. How dare you take advantage of your position of power in order to rig things to suit your own agenda. I can’t believe how tyranny has run rampant in our precinct. I-”

“Pidge, get to the point.” Shiro interrupted.

“But I have like seven more minutes of speech prepared.”

Shiro got up to go to the break room and pick up a yogurt parfait, but Pidge stopped him.

“Okay fine. I know when Lance started pulling ahead, you started assigning him shitty cases with no possible felony arrests.”

“Katie, that is ridiculous, this is a workplace.” Shiro said.

“Just because you use my real name doesn’t mean you win. If it’s so ridiculous, tell me why Lance was 13 ahead of Keith three weeks ago, but now the only cases he gets are missing pets and elderly people who wander off from their family.” Pidge grinned, obviously proud of herself.

“Pidge, it just so happens that Lance is free when those cases pop up.” Shiro tried to move away, but despite her lack of vertical-ness, Pidge could really block a path.

“Sarge, I have all the evidence. I just don’t know your motive. Why would you be against Lance and Keith going on a date? Maybe then they’d stop screaming at each other all day.”

Shiro looked at Pidge and caved. 

“Okay, you can’t say anything to anyone, alright?”

Pidge nodded.

“I want Keith to win so that I won’t have to park next to Lance’s disgusting car anymore.” Shiro confessed.

Pidge looked at Shiro quizzically. “What’s so bad about Lance’s car?”

It was Shiro’s turn to look at Pidge quizzically.

“Okay, yeah my bad, it’s Lance. It’s disgusting.”

“Every morning when I get out of my car, it smells like and looks like french fry oil. Birds eat off of his car and die when I come back the next morning. Pidge, it’s a HAZARD.” Shiro said.

“Sarge, suck it up. Start being a team player.”

“But I’m not on your team.” Shiro said.

Pidge glared back at him. Maybe giving Lance a few homicide cases wouldn’t hurt. 

Six months into the bet, things had settled down a bit between Keith and Lance. Neither had forgotten about the bet, but the end seemed so far and they had been at it for so long that they both lost a bit of steam. Despite this, Lance never tired of mentioning how he was two arrests ahead. 

Lance, Pidge, Hunk, and Coran were noticeably closer than they had been six months ago. They would all cheer and applaud when Lance would announce he had made an arrest, which was often.

Keith became more distant from the rest of the squad, even more distant than was usual for him. Shiro tried to check up on him many times, but he insisted he was fine. Shiro knew better than that, though.

“Hey Keith, you hate mariachi bands, right?” Lance asked.

Keith looked up at his desk neighbour, but didn’t say a word. Lance, being the oblivious idiot he was, continued.

“Doesn’t matter, I’ll order one for our date in six months anyway. They are surprisingly difficult to book.” Lance teased. 

Shiro was certain Keith wasn’t bothered by Lance being ahead of him in arrests, no more than usual, at least. It had to be something else. Luckily, Shiro had some training in solving things.

Shiro observed Keith all morning, but he didn’t do anything out of the ordinary. He pushed a printer off a desk, stabbed a CPR dummy, launched a keyboard at Lance, and growled while he played Candy Crush. This was all normal for Keith.

At 2:38, Shiro noticed Keith glance at his phone when it lit up. Normally, Keith would ignore it and put it on silent, or just decline the call, depending on who it was. This time though, he got up and quietly, but quickly, left the bullpen and headed for the stairs. Shiro swiftly followed Keith down the stairwell.

“Hey, give me a second, I need to get out of the precinct.” Keith whispered into the phone. 

Shiro made sure Keith didn’t notice him following him, and then proceeded to speed walk as Keith marched down to the parking lot.

“Hi Krolia, how is he?” Keith said, placing the phone to his ear.

Who was Keith talking about? Shiro inched closer to try to hear a bit better.

“Well what did the vet say?”

Vet? Was this about Kosmo?

“What can we do?” Keith asked. Shiro noticed Keith’s voice getting higher and higher, something he knew was a sure sign that Keith was upset.

Keith sniffed and brought his arm up to wipe away a tear. “Okay, just wait. I’ll be there soon. Don’t do anything without me.” He choked out the last sentence and hung up.

He didn’t move for a bit. Shiro couldn’t see his face very well, but he could see his eyes were turning red. Shiro wasn’t totally used to seeing Keith express so much emotion other than anger or annoyance.

“Keith?” Shiro called out to the younger officer. Keith turned around quickly, and turned again once he realized how he must have looked. “Is everything alright?” Shiro approached him slowly.

“How much of that did you hear?” Keith sniffled, his voice was weaker than Shiro had ever heard it.

“Uhh, I guess all of your end.” Shiro replied. Keith just nodded and looked to the ground. “You don’t have to tell me, but I’m here for you. Any time, Keith.” Shiro slowly placed a hand on Keith’s shoulder.

Shiro was about to leave Keith to be on his own, but Keith spoke up, “Kosmo’s sick.”

Shiro looked at Keith, “Keith I’m so sorry.”

“And he’s old. The vet says there’s nothing we can do and the humane thing to do would be to…” Keith choked up. He broke down and shifted all his weight onto Shiro.

“Keith, you shouldn’t drive like this. Let me take you.” Shiro said softly. Keith nodded.

A few weeks later, Keith was back ahead of Lance. He worked a drug ring case and busted eleven highly wanted drug lords. Lance was furious, but also very impressed, and admittedly a bit turned on. He was attracted to a job well done, not Keith, obviously.

Shiro still checked up on Keith a lot, but Keith still insisted he was fine. This time Shiro believed him. Keith had come a long way in the last few weeks and was back to insulting Lance.

Eight months into The Bet, Keith was still beating Lance. Oddly enough, Captain Altea was the most worked up over the bet on The Bet. She even tried to bribe Shiro into putting Lance on desk duty until The Bet was over. Shiro, fearing Pidge would poison his yogurt, refused.

The Captain would check the scores no less than ten times a day to make sure Keith was still in the lead.

“Pidge.” Shiro whispered.

Pidge looked around to see where the voice was coming from. Her eyes landed on Shiro’s and he motioned towards the Captain’s office. Pidge looked over and they both watched as Allura pretended to type on her computer, but was really staring at the scoreboard.

“What’s up with her?” Pidge asked quietly.

Shiro shrugged, “You wanna find out?”

Pidge grinned mischievously, “Get me chainsaw and a gallon of goat milk.”

Shiro stared back at her, decided it was better just not to ask.

“No.”

Pidge rolled her eyes and followed Shiro into the Captain’s office. Shiro knocked twice on the door and cleared his throat.

“Captain, I couldn’t help but notice that you have been very, uh, vigilant of the scoreboard.” Shiro said. Still, the Captain did not take her eyes off of the whiteboard. “Uh, ma’m?”

“This would have been so much easier with the goat milk.” Pidge whispered to Shiro.

“Not the chainsaw?” Shiro said.

“See, that’s what you’d think, but that’s a rookie mistake.” Pidge said that as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. Shiro realized he really didn’t know that much about her.

Pidge, who had gotten sick of waiting, marched up to the Captain’s desk and flicked her on the head. Shiro had to stifle a laugh, but Captain Altea still frowned at him. Pidge waved innocently at the Captain and flashed a toothy grin.

“Why are you so obsessed with the scoreboard, Cap’n. It’s 20 dollars.” Pidge said. Everyone knew how much Captain Altea hated when they didn’t pronounce the ‘t’ in the word captain, but surprisingly, she didn’t say anything about it.

“It’s not just 20 dollars. If I lose, it means I was wrong. I did all the math and research before placing my bet. Gambling is math, officers.” Captain Altea gripped the mug in her hand tighter.

“I believe your exact words when you placed your bet were, ‘McClain is a buffoon. Obviously, I will bet on Keith.’” Pidge reminded the Captain.

“You do not understand. You never will. You two aren’t true gamblers. We are nothing without respect. If I lose a simple work bet, how am I to face my friends in Atlantic City?”

Pidge shrugged and looked back at Shiro for some help. Shiro pretended to be very interested in the books on the Captain’s chair. It was just a coincidence that they were in the opposite direction of Pidge.

“You could just...not say anything?” Pidge suggested. Immediately, she realized she shouldn’t have said anything.

“Katie Holt. How dare you? If I lie, I am no better than the drunk mothers who only play blackjack because the dealer is cute.” Captain Altea looked thoroughly offended by Pidge. “How can I even trust you on my squad when you suggest such a thing?”

Pidge sighed and threw her hands into the air as a sign of surrender. “I give up.” As Pidge walked by Shiro, she leaned in to whisper something to him, “You couldn’t have just gotten me some goat milk and a chainsaw from evidence.”

Shiro couldn’t tell if she meant both were in evidence for whatever reason, but instead he decided to focus on the Captain.

“Hi Captain. We’re just concerned that maybe you may have a bit of a problem.”

“My problem is that you are blocking my view of the scoreboard and that I have a bunch of nosy subordinates who can't mind their own business.” She practically hissed at Shiro.

“Captain Altea, with all due respect, are you certain you have control of yourself?” Shiro asked. Captain Altea biting her nails and getting out of her seat to stand on her desk in order to see the whiteboard was all the answer he needed. “Okay Captain, I think you should head home. I’ve got things under control here. You just go home and relax with Lotor and forget about The Bet bet.”

Shiro carefully escorted Captain Altea out of the precinct and called her a cab. She resisted at first, but eventually she thanked him. He still wasn’t totally convinced, so he instructed the cab driver to take her directly home and make sure she does not go anywhere she could gamble. At this, Captain Altea’s smile flattened, but she still thanked Shiro.

“Make sure Keith wins.” She said before she entered the cab.

Shiro scoffed, “There is no way you are still allowed to be involved in The Bet bet.”

Captain Altea looked offended, but she knew he was right. “Thanks.”

Pidge eagerly greeted Shiro as he reentered the precinct. “So, did she kick your ass for kicking her ass out?”

Shiro chuckled, and told her Captain Altea was out of The Bet bet.

It was the last few days before the end of The Bet. The precinct had become a complete disaster, but The Bet had led to them beating the record for most felony arrests in a year in the entire NYPD, so Shiro didn’t feel like he should really stop them.

Lance was always running around trying to catch any perp, and Hunk was happy to do all his paperwork for him so he could try to cram in as many arrests as possible. Although Pidge had her bets placed on Lance, she still became Keith’s right hand man. According to her, it was unfair that Lance had Hunk waiting for his every beck and call, and in order for her to feel satisfaction of winning the bet, it needed to be fair. Shiro stopped questioning things Pidge did a long time ago.

Currently, they were tied at 107 each. Everyone in the precinct was itching to see who would win. Shiro made Captain Altea stay at home the week leading up to the last day of The Bet because she was still getting over her gambling problem.

Adam, on the other hand, was struggling to see why they were all so worked up over a “silly bet”.

Shiro had tried explaining it to him during the six weeks they had been dating, but everytime it always went something along the lines of:

“I just don’t understand why it’s such a big deal.”

“Adam, they’ve been at it for a year. They’ve broken a state record because of this bet.”

“Yes, I get that, but why do you all care so much about who wins? Why does that matter? They’ve done what they’ve done, but why should the final outcome be so important?”

Shiro would shrug, “I don’t know, I guess we’re easily entertained.”

Adam would laugh.

Despite Adam’s complete apathy to the outcome of The Bet, Shiro was very excited to see who would win. He decided that even if Lance won, he was going to steal his car and bring it to a car wash. Obviously, he would pay someone else to drive it. He never would get into the car in the current state it was in.

T-minus 1 minute and 30 seconds until the end of The Bet.

Keith strutted into the precinct, a cocky smile on his face. Neither of them had managed to make any arrests to break the tie, but Keith clearly was about to change that.

“Guess who just arrested three perps for illegal gun trading to minors!” Keith hollered. “Guess that brings me up to 110. I win! Suck it! I hope you aren’t too attached to your car ‘cause tonight I’m driving home in your car. And then I’m driving to the junkyard, where I will have it smushed into a metal cube, which I will use as a cold, sharp ottoman.” Keith turned to smirk at Lance.

Lance didn’t look bothered. In fact, he looked smug. Keith felt a pang of panic. Why wasn’t Lance upset?

“Hunk! Bring’em in!” Lance called out.

“What? Wait-no-” Keith stuttered.

Hunk brought in tens of dishevelled men.

“I ran a prostitution sting through Vice, and arrested thirty guys for soliciting.” Lance announced.

“That’s not a felony!” Keith argued.

Lance smiled and laughed. It was actually shocking to hear Lance’s evil laugh. It was so...evil. He dramatically spun to face Keith, “It is if it’s your second offense. Which is the case for ten of these gentlemen. Little trivia -- four of them are actually named John! Ironic. Anyhoo, ten more for McClain. Accept your fate!” He pointed at Keith.

“Never!” Keith screamed.

Lance looked at his wrist, where there was no watch, and looked Keith in the eye, “Five... four... three... two... one!”

“It’s over. Lance wins! Keith loses!”

Shiro had to stop Keith from running out the window.


End file.
